


pretend i'm free to roam;

by unintentionallyangsty



Series: drive the dark things away; [8]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor: Ragnarok (2017) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brodinsons, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Comfort, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki Gets a Hug (Marvel), Loki Lives (Marvel), Memories, New Asgard, Nightmares, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Reflection, Self-Reflection, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unintentionallyangsty/pseuds/unintentionallyangsty
Summary: Loki struggles with some memories of his time spent in the Void, as well as the time following.(Whumptober 2020 Prompt #8 Fill: Isolation).
Relationships: Loki & Thor, Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Series: drive the dark things away; [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949623
Comments: 25
Kudos: 161
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	pretend i'm free to roam;

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SalParadiseLost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalParadiseLost/gifts).



> Loki & Thor. Takes place in New Asgard. Loki is alive and Infinity War has decidedly Not happened. 
> 
> written for the Whumptober 2020 Prompt #8 Fill: Isolation. 

The Void was his first brush with it. 

It wasn’t loneliness, necessarily. It went deeper than that, somehow. An almost-cold that pervaded at the back of his mind, only growing in strength, the longer he had focussed on it.

And really, what else was there for focus on, when falling through nothingness? 

No, Loki considered, it hadn't been loneliness. 

It had been more like _emptiness_. Like everything within him had been torn out, rearranged, chewed and spat back out, before being stuffed unceremoniously back in. 

It was more than quiet. After having spent most of his life with the gentle hum of the city of Asgard accompanying his every move, even into the long hours of the night, having it suddenly snuffed out into a thick and unshakable silence had been...disconcerting, to say the least. 

And the Void… 

Falling through the Void was silence, but it was also _noise_ , roaring so loudly at the back of Loki’s mind he could hardly hear his own thoughts beyond it. 

Not that he had had any particular desire to do so, after--

Well, after everything.

The fear that had accompanied the roaring had been something of a surprise, though looking back on what had followed the fall, it really should not have been. 

Perhaps his subconscious had been trying to warn him of the horrors that were to follow the fall. 

Or, perhaps he had inherited more of the All-Mother’s foresight than he had originally believed. 

(Or might have, were he capable of inheriting anything from her at all, he supposed). 

Whatever the case was, the ever present noise of the fall was not loud enough to drown out the persistent fear he had felt gnawing at his gut almost as soon as he’d let go of the end of the end of Gungnir. 

_Let go,_ Loki reminded himself, something almost like fascination tugging at the back of his mind as he did so. 

He had let go. Not fallen. Not been--been cast out. 

( _“Your imagined slights”, indeed._ he thought, humorlessly). 

Beyond the noise-silence and the ever present, cold lump of fear in his gut, however… 

The fall had left Loki alone. 

And he had remained alone for what could have been anywhere between a number of hours and a hundred years. 

Give or take. 

The isolation had been deafening, permeating its way into every pore, every crevice of his mind until he could do nothing but heave long, dry sobs that had lasted for days on end. 

After that, the solid rock of Sanctuary had been almost a blessing. A soothing balm, as it were. 

There had been voices, mere whispers at first, so quiet Loki had begun to fear that they were simply another form of torment his mind had decided to churn out. 

After his having been plucked from his fall (from the Void), he had proceeded to teeter on the edge of unconsciousness for a while, the voices fading in and out periodically as he remained immobile. 

Eventually, lucidity had begun to filter back in, and Loki had been formally introduced to the Black Order. 

What had followed had, of course, been less of a solitude, though he could say with relative certainty, now that he was able to think back on the time from an almost (almost) detached standpoint, that he had retreated so far back into himself during the time that he very well might have been able to mistake it for something similar to isolation. 

Were it not for almost every waking minute having been spent with at least one of the members of the Order. 

After...this, and subsequently what had happened on Midgard following his “release” (terms and conditions, though there were), Loki had considered that a little solitude might have been a relief. 

He had been wrong. 

Asgard’s dungeons were well-lit and relatively comfortable, he would concede. A blessing compared to the Void, and downright luxurious compared to his cell on Sanctuary. 

His moth--Frigga, too, had done as much as she possibly could to ensure that his cell was well furnished and as comfortable as possible. 

Not that it had made much of a difference. The comfort only did less to distract his mind from the isolation. 

There were Einherjar posted outside his cell at all times, of course. Odin would hardly have allowed for less of a precaution. 

He could see a number of his fellow prisoners, as well, were they held in the cells directly opposite his own. 

They, however, did not tend to be very desirable companions, particularly when they recognized him and began to jeer. 

And, though Loki could not hear the calls past the soundproofing spells that had been woven around his cell, the mockery behind the movements was clear. 

To be held in the same dungeons as a fallen prine… 

How exciting for them. 

Beyond this company, however, Loki was, for the most part, left to himself. 

The first few days were, admittedly, not a hardship. 

Loki was left to his own devices, with only the books Frigga had left and the memory of his “trial” for company. 

In truth, the pitiful excuse for a trial had not managed to rattle his nerves. It wasn’t as if he had expected to be welcomed back into Asgard with open arms, at any rate, and Odin’s hasty judgement had not at all come as a surprise. 

What had been more shocking, oddly enough, was how quickly Loki found himself longing for another individual’s company, only days into his isolation. 

No, he mentally corrected himself with a small scowl, that wasn’t quite right. 

How quickly he had found himself longing for _Thor’s_ company, was more accurate. 

Admitting the fact even to himself made something within his chest burn uncomfortably, though Loki considered that he wasn’t necessarily in a place to deny the truth of the situation. 

Immediately, his mind flickered back to the memory of his return to Asgard, a heavy muzzle at his mouth and Thor’s hand tight at his elbow. 

Almost as soon as the Tesseract had deposited them at the edge of the city, Thor had released his arm as if the touch itself burned him, though the stern expression he had shot Loki before he had turned to begin trekking back toward the palace had all but dared him to do anything but follow. 

And, a sort of hollow emptiness beginning to open within the space between his ribs, Loki had followed with no argument. 

“Wait here.” Thor had commanded him, when they had reached the outer courtyard surrounding the palace, and stepped back to allow a number of Einherjar to scurry forward to restrain Loki with chains and shackles enchanted by Odin himself, designed specifically to cripple his seiðr.

And Loki had allowed it, his eyes remaining determinedly rested on where Thor was still stood, his gaze held carefully averted as the guards continued their work.

It was the last Loki had seen of his--of Thor, since their return to Asgard, and he felt his stomach curdle slightly at the memory. 

_Why waste tears, now?_ He reminded himself, his features twisting into a disgusted snarl even as he felt his stomach swoop in what could only be described as loss. _He doesn’t miss you. He never did._

_If he did, he would have visited by now._

The thought nearly startled Loki, and he rested his head against the stiff wooden back of the chair that sat in the corner of his cell, allowing his eyes to flutter closed as he attempted to breathe through the emotions cloying up the back of his throat, now. 

_Did you mourn?_ His previous words floated back to the front of his mind, unbidden, immediately accompanied by the disconnected look behind Thor’s eyes as he’d turned away from Loki for the last time. 

The last time in over a year, and yet Loki continued to cling to the pathetic hope that his brother might somehow, miraculously appear at the side of his cell at any moment. 

_Pathetic,_ he reminded himself with a snarl. 

_Sentimental._

_Your fault,_ a voice at the very back of his mind reminded him, and Loki fought the urge to clamp his hands over his ears at the sound, instead opting to clench his eyes shut and swallow thickly. 

_Not good enough._

_I know_ , he felt like replying, something hot twisting within his gut as he shook his head slightly against the ever present voice.

_Not worthy._

_I **know**._

And yet it was not at all comforting, admitting to his own guilt. 

For a time, Loki had convinced himself that acknowledging his own mistakes, owning up to his actions, might grant him freedom from the nauseating guilt that had haunted him since Thor’s failed coronation. 

And for a time, he had fantasized about Thor appearing again, silently allowing Loki to admit to everything and, ultimately, free himself from the still whispering voices clinging at the back of his mind. 

Thor had never appeared, of course, and Loki had found himself wiling away the time spent alone in his cell by puzzling over what Thor might be up to, if not visiting Asgard’s shame of a prince, locked away like a dirty secret in the dungeons below the palace. 

Midgard, perhaps? Though Loki knew that the option was near impossible, as the Bifrost was still in the last stages of being repaired. 

Was Thor still up above, then? Acting as Asgard’s beloved Crown Prince as Odin’s health continued to flag? 

Or was he isolated within his chambers? Mourning the loss of his beloved companions on Midgard and thoroughly attempting to forget that he had ever had a brother at all? 

The thought churned Loki’s stomach, and he pushed it away hastily in favor of burying his face into where his arms were crossed and laid out atop his knees. 

_‘Wait here,’_ Thor had commanded, and Loki had not found it within himself to move since. 

_Wait here…_

_Stop,_ he reminded himself, his breath beginning to leave him in short, shallow pants, bile beginning to crawl up the back of his throat, the longer he allowed himself to agonize over the memory. 

_Wait here._

_I can’t,_ he thought wildly, the cell around him beginning to spin as he fought to control his suddenly spiralling breathing. 

_Wait here._

_I can’t._

Thor turning away, the back of his cape and broad shoulders the last Loki had seen of his brother. 

The last he might ever see. 

_Wait here--_

I _**can’t--**_

\---

“ _NO!_ ” 

Loki gasped, choking on an inhale as he thrashed, slightly, his mind a half second behind him as he fought to register where he was. 

Home, his mind supplied, as his gaze flittered madly, first over the thick quilt wrapped around his shoulders, then to the sunlight streaming through the window just above him to his right. 

After another moment, the sound of clattering dishes sounded from somewhere beyond the room, followed by someone humming lowly beneath their breath. 

_Thor_ , he thought immediately, the tight bands around his lungs loosening slightly at the thought. 

The smell of something frying filtered in past the fog still clinging at the forefront of his mind and, to his surprise, Loki felt more calmed than nauseated by the scent. 

“Loki?” 

Before Loki could react, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall, and not a moment later Thor stuck his head into the room, his brow furrowed tightly around the tight edge of his eyepatch as he cast his gaze warily about the room. 

“Are you--You’re awake?” he inquired, the small wrinkle between his brows not smoothing even as his gaze fell to where Loki was perched on the edge of the sofa, his hands clenched in the fabric of the cushions below and his shoulders tensed nearly to his ears. 

“Are you alright?” Thor pressed, after a moment, when Loki did not offer a verbal reply to his initial question. “I heard--Did you say something?” 

His attempts at tact were, at best, laughable, though Loki could not help the small surge of gratefulness he could feel building within his chest at the words. 

“I’m--” Loki began, only for his nose to crinkle at the acrid smell beginning to waft out from the kitchen. 

“Are you--” his brow furrowed. “Is something burning?”

Thor paused, his own brow furrowing further, before something like horror smoothed his features. 

“The eggs!” he cried, before turning on one heel and hastening back into the kitchen. 

A moment later, Loki leaned forward and broke into a fit of small, breathless giggles, unable to help the laughter even if he had tried. 

Not that he particularly wanted to. 

Abruptly, Loki felt the humor drain from him, leaving only hollowness and a bit of trepidation in its wake, still left over from his dream. 

_Your fault…_

_No_ , he reminded himself with a small snarl. 

That was over. He was _finished_ with this. 

_Your--_

_No_. Loki swallowed thickly, and fought the urge to be sick all over the floor beside his sock clad feet. 

_Fault._

_**No.** _

Loki lurched to his feet suddenly, his hands scrabbling somewhat desperately at his chest as he fought to breathe past the sudden stickiness that had taken up residence between his lungs. 

_Thor_ , something at the back of his mind beckoned, and he stumbled a clumsy half step toward the kitchen--

Only to be halted by another, harsher voice. 

_Pathetic_. 

Loki shook his head, and swallowed again past the nervous nausea rising within his gut. 

_No--_

_Pathetic_. 

_**No!** _

Before he could stop himself, Loki all but fell through the doorway and into the kitchen. 

When he entered the room, however, he faltered, his gaze falling to where Thor was still stood at the stove, his back to Loki.

Loki felt his breath nearly freeze within his lungs. 

_Not worthy--_

_I know._ He thought, his legs already beginning to stumble further into the kitchen without him fully realizing that he had intended to do so. 

And, before he realized it, he was falling forward, his arms rising to wrap tightly around Thor’s ribs as he all but buried his face into the space between his brother’s shoulder blades. 

Immediately, Thor stiffened, his breath stuttering audibly within his lungs as he raised the hand that was not holding the spatula, still poking at the now burnt eggs on the stovetop, to slot over one of Loki’s vaguely trembling hands. 

“Loki?” he inquired, hesitantly, and moved to quickly turn the stove burner off with a _click_ ,before his other hand moved to cup Loki’s elbow. 

“Are you alright?” 

And, for all his effort not to react, Loki felt something within him tremble violently at the inquiry.

He snuffled loudly (obnoxiously), then, before tightening his arms around Thor’s waist and burrowing slightly closer, his eyes squeezing shut against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him entirely. 

To his credit, Thor did not react beyond a small hum, though his hold on Loki’s arms did tighten ever so slightly. 

“Alright,” Thor murmured, when Loki did not reply, and nodded slightly to himself before inquiring, “Are--Can I turn around?” 

Immediately, Loki felt himself nodding, and could not quite find it within himself to feel ashamed at the admission. 

Especially when, after another beat, Thor turned on his heel and surveyed Loki for a brief moment, his mouth twisted into a small frown, before he surged forward to wrap both his arms around Loki’s still tense shoulders. 

Almost immediately, Loki fell forward into the embrace, his breath leaving him in a long, unsteady shudder as Thor’s arms tightened around him. 

_Not alone._ He reminded himself, firmly, and swallowed thickly past the sudden tightness of his throat as he tucked his face into Thor’s shoulder. 

_Not anymore._

**Author's Note:**

> a fill for a prompt from [SalParadiseLost](https://salparadiselost.tumblr.com) on tumblr!
> 
> (my brain was an absolute garbage fire today. and yet! here we are! and i'm semi proud of myself and actually kind of appreciate how this turned out). 
> 
> as per usual, hmu at my tumblr [here!](http://littlekinng.tumblr.com) xx thanks all!


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